Lass Ride: Crossroads

Chapter 10

If they had done something the very next week, used the element of surprise, Dean might not have cracked. But Roman insisted on scouting and planning, and then Ric took a turn for the worse, and after that they got an incredible offer for a weekend-long tournament that paid each of them more than they'd made in the past two months. By the time RAW was appearing at an arena where they knew the layout well and they felt comfortable in the city, almost three months had gone past. Dean's patience had evaporated far sooner.

So he called Becky.

They hadn't texted much since her return to RAW. After his tirade had blown over, he would congratulate her on a great match or killer promo, and she initially replied only with a thumbs-up emoji or simple, unpunctuated Thanks. But then she would occasionally text him links to new wrestling opportunities. It was hardly a warm and open line of communication, but it was better than being shut out. Dean wasn't sure if she would believe what he had to say if it was in a text, though, so he called instead.

After the fact, he realized it could have all gone wrong. He hardly ever answered his phone and she could be the same. Even worse, some other WWE employee might have picked up her phone and they might be able to recognize his voice. But it was Becky who answered—a pre-coffee Becky, judging from the thickness of her accent—and her voice was a mixture of irritation and concern. "Dean? Why are you calling?"

The worry in her voice made him wonder for a moment. Could he pull off a quick lie? If he told her Charlotte was hurt or that Roman was sick again, would she come back? Dean dismissed the idea almost immediately. He wasn't going to set Becky up and exploit her feelings, not when she had done more to fix their situation than the rest of them combined. "I can't talk long." He had woken up early to finish his packing just so he could call her, but now the others were almost finished. "But heads up: Roman's planning on us coming to RAW tonight."

Becky was silent for a moment. "What? Why? Is he planning an interven—"

"Gotta go," Dean blurted when there was a knock on his door. He hadn't had a chance to tell Becky any details before he disconnected, but he hoped she'd be able to take care of herself.

Staying quiet about what he knew for so many months had been agonizing, but that specific Monday was so much worse. Watching Renee get on Becky's old bike, noticing the red braided bracelets the remaining Four Horsewomen wore in honour of their absent friend, even watching Seth ramble around like a ghost was getting to him. "Don't worry, man." Roman gave Dean a quick hug before heading for his bike. "We'll find her and we'll talk to her and—"

"And what?" Dean blurted, tossing his helmet from hand to hand. "Have any of us honestly thought that far? We can't kidnap her. Do we really think that rolling up and saying 'Sorry we were shit friends' is going to make her drop everything she's got going for her and come back?"

They all paused at that, glancing down at their bikes. In the three months she had been back on RAW, she had wrestled every Monday, gained a title shot at the next pay-per-view, and had been instrumental in starting a campaign for a women's mid-card title. That was a lot to give up, especially when the alternative was a week-to-week existence eked out on the road with no assurances. "I don't know," Roman admitted, looking unsure for the first time since they had started planning. "But I know we have to try. We owe her that."

Dean still wasn't convinced and, looking around at his friends, he didn't think all of them were either, but they rode off all the same. Once they had parked within walking distance of the arena, Dean pulled out his phone and sent off a quick text to Becky, hoping she'd read it in time: If Roman won't back off, tell him I knew. It'll distract everyone and take some heat off you. Then he followed the others to the back entrance Roman had supposedly arranged access to.